"Audition?" Rick asked. The man who called himself Aaron sat in the middle of the road, legs crossed, hands tied behind his back. The group encircled the two of them, looking on as Rick questioned him. Sweat soaked through Rick's faded brown t-shirt, adding to his annoyance.

"More like an introduction," Aaron said with a cautious smile. Rick wanted to wipe that smile from his face, not trusting the man who knew more about them than he liked. "Our settlement is secure. We have food, water and shelter. Our walls are made of reinforced steel. We need people like you. But we need to make sure you are the right people and I am not the one who decides that."

"And how do we know this isn't some kind of trap?"

"In my pack, you'll find pictures of our community. I'm offering you my trust by sharing these with you. All I ask is that you offer yours in return."

Sasha handed Aaron's pack to Rick. It was as clean and unmarred as Aaron. Rick rummaged through the pack, his fingers grazing a glossy surface. He removed two 3x5, black-and-white photos.

"The first photo is of the walls surrounding our community. And the second is the most recent picture taken of the members of our community, of the families living inside of those walls. All of the people in that photo are still alive, and that was taken over three months ago."

Rick examined the photo of the walls – they had to be at least ten feet wide and looked well-kept and secure. The second photo showed those same walls, looming behind a group of around forty people. Men, women – and children – stood smiling for the camera. Aaron stood in the middle, his arm around a blonde man with eyes as calm as his own. Rick wanted to believe in this place, in what this man was offering them, but the photos did little to alleviate his skepticism.

Rick heard someone approach from behind. He recognized the pattern of footsteps - Michonne. She peeked over his shoulder examining the photos. Her natural feminine scent, heightened by the humidity of the day, temporarily distracted him. Since that night – when he almost gave in to kissing her – her nearness never failed to send his pulse racing. He feared giving in to his feelings for her would distract him from his greatest priority - to find a new home for the group. He was not ready to take that chance, no matter how much he wanted to be with her.

"These photos seem to support what he's told us, Rick. I have a knack for detecting bullshitters and he seems like an okay guy to me," Michonne said at a volume only loud enough for Rick's ears. "I think we should at least check it out before dismissing him altogether."

"But our plan is for Washington, not Fantasyland."

"The photos prove this is more than just a fantasy. This could be the home we've been searching for. Somewhere we can settle down."

Rick's stomach fluttered at the thought of him and Michonne in a home – together – with Judith and Carl. The feeling, however, was fleeting. The weight of the lives of these people, who trusted him to keep them alive, returned to his shoulders.

Rick moved away from Michonne, crouching down in front of Aaron. He stuck his hand in the pack and pulled out the plastic gun he had felt before. The orange flare gun flashed in the sunlight.

"How many people are with you?" Rick asked. "And what will happen if I point this into the sky and pull the trigger?"

Aaron kept silent. His upper lip twitched. It appeared that Aaron trusted Rick about as much as Rick trusted him.

Rick stood and pointed the gun to the sky. A loud pop sounded as he pulled the trigger and a red flare streaked through the sky, trailing white smoke. "I guess we'll find out."

That night the group took refuge in a dilapidated barn smelling of horse manure and moldy hay. A small fire filled the barn with soft light. After setting off the flare, they had waited for Aaron's allies to arrive, prepared to fight, but no one showed. Rick noticed Aaron's look of relief when he finally decided to head out in search of shelter for the night.

Michonne cradled Judith in her arms as she slept soundly. Judith had gone into a crying fit earlier and Michonne had been the only one able to calm her down. She had a way with Judith that made him suspect she had experience with babies. It had been five years since he'd seen her last and it was definitely possible that she could have had a child in that time. But Michonne hardly offered any information about her past and he would rather have her tell him when she was ready than inquire about a past that might be painful for her to relive.

"She's beautiful," Aaron said, cutting into his thoughts. He sat against a wooden column with his legs crossed. He had been in that position for hours and Rick doubted he was anywhere near comfortable. "We have four children in our community, but no babies. Your daughter would be the first. Rick, inside of our walls, she could cry and no one would hear her. Not walkers. Not humans. She would be safe – you all would."

Rick looked around the barn, taking in the harried expressions of his friends and family. They were all in need of a home; somewhere they could be safe, clean and well-fed. If what Aaron offered them was real, how could he turn his back on it?

"Why hasn't anyone shown up yet? Where are your people?" Rick asked. He stroked his bushy beard.

"There are no people. There is only…my husband," Aaron said, lowering his voice. He watched Rick, waiting for his reaction.

Despite being from a small town in Georgia, Rick had known several gay men in his life and had no issues with Aaron's marriage to another man. He was only concerned with whether Aaron was trustworthy or not. "Your husband is out here with you?"

"It's our job to find people to join our community. It's just the two of us. So, there are no people. Just him."

"How long have you two been married?"

"Our first anniversary is in two months." Aaron paused. "How long have you and Michonne been together?"

Me and Michonne? "We're not – together." Rick shifted the conversation, determined to focus on finding the truth rather than his complicated feelings for Michonne. "If this guy really is your husband, your partner, why hasn't he shown up yet?"

"He's probably out there watching us right now. If he doesn't want to be seen, he won't be. That's his specialty and why we work so well together. I'm sure he saw me tied up and decided to hold back until he knows it's safe."

"He's telling the truth, Rick," Michonne said, joining them. Judith slept soundly in her arms and Rick's heart warmed at the sight. "This is an opportunity for us – to have a home. If we pass this up, I know we'll regret it."

Rick trusted Michonne's instincts. Those instincts had led her back to him and kept his family alive. But am I willing to risk the lives of everyone here based on her gut?

"If you're still unsure, let's talk to Aaron's husband. If he can corroborate everything Aaron has told us thus far, will you agree to give this a chance?" Judith stirred in her arms and Michonne whispered comforting words while rocking her back to sleep.

"Ok," Rick said to Aaron. He untied the rope binding his wrists. "You tell whoever is out there that it's safe to come out. Nothing more."

Aaron rubbed his wrists. "I'll do as you say, only if you promise not to hurt him."

"I won't hurt him, unless he gives me a reason to," Rick said.

Aaron stood. "He won't. If you harm him, I promise you'll never get anywhere near our community." He walked to the barn doors, Rick following close behind him. He respected Aaron for protecting his family. Rick nodded to Daryl and Glenn, who joined them, armed and ready.

Aaron pushed the creaky barn doors open, walking into the darkness. He stood for a few seconds before shouting, "Popcorn!"

Rick gripped Aaron's shoulder, pulling his Colt from the holster. "What are you playing at? What does that mean?"

"Calm down," Aaron said. "It's our safe word. This way he knows I'm not under duress."

A blonde man appeared seemingly from nowhere. "Are you okay?" he asked Aaron.

"Yes, I'm fine," Aaron responded. "Rick, this is my husband, Eric."

Rick looked over Aaron's shoulder to find the same man from the picture – the one Aaron had his arm around.

"Is there anyone else with you?" Rick asked Eric.

"No, it's just me," Eric responded.

"Good. Now, I'm only going to ask this once. If your answer isn't acceptable, you and Aaron will make me very angry," Rick said. "And you won't like me when I'm angry."

"Seeing as you just threatened my husband, I kind of don't like you already," Eric said.

"How long have you two been married?"

"Ten months, five days and seven hours," Eric said without hesitation.

The tension eased from Rick's shoulders. He suddenly felt exhausted, like he could lay down on a bushel of hay and sleep three days straight. He slid the Colt back into its holster.

"I want to know everything about your community," Rick said. "Our people are not going anywhere until we know all of the facts."

Eric walked over to embrace Aaron. The latter turned to face Rick, smiling as though he knew what Rick's decision would be all along. "First off, it's called Alexandria. And second, you still have to audition."

Rick and Michonne sat in the well-lit, air-conditioned study, waiting to meet the person in charge of Alexandria. The natural light streaming through the large bay window gave Rick a sense of calm and he wondered if that wasn't the intention, to make them a little more malleable.

After discussing Alexandria with Aaron and Eric, the group had left the barn that morning, hiking to the RV and minivan the two had prepared for transport. Upon reaching the gates of the community, Aaron had only asked for them to surrender their weapons, not offering any details about who would conduct the audition. Rick had not been comfortable with giving up their only means of protection, but he knew if he was in charge, he would have demanded the same. But he did request that Daryl and Sasha stick as close to the weapons as possible and Aaron acquiesced without protest.

Michonne squirmed in her seat across from him on the sofa. He guessed she felt more naked without her katana than he did without his Colt.

"Did you see the kids when we came in?" Rick asked. "Playing a game of tag on the lawn? That is something I never thought I'd see again."

Michonne drummed her fingertips against her thigh. "I bet some of them have never even seen a walker before. That's dangerous."

Rick understood Michonne's caution, as he shared some of the same concerns. "Sometimes I think, ff I had the choice, Carl wouldn't know things like walkers even existed."

"He'll be a better survivor than any of these kids because of it. He'll be the one people look to for leadership rather than having to depend on someone to keep him alive." Michonne stood and walked over to the bay window, which provided a view of the majority of Alexandria.

This woman never lets her guard down, he thought with a smile. And Carl will have the best chance of surviving with someone like her in his life. We both will.

The door to the study opened and a petite brunette woman walked in, carrying a pitcher of lemondae. She appeared to be in her early 50s, reminding Rick of his high school math teacher. Math had always been his favorite subject in school.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," the woman said, her smile cordial and precise. "I'm Deanna. And let me officially welcome you all to Alexandria - the home away from the apocalypse." She smirked. "Can I offer you any refreshments? Jessie makes the best lemonade I've ever tasted."

Michonne returned to the sofa to join Rick. He looked at her and she shook her head.

"No, thank you," Rick replied for the both of them. "We would just like to know what is happening here. What is this audition? And what happens if we don't make the cut?"

Deanna laughed, taking a seat in the upholstered armchair across from them. She placed the lemonade on the coffee table between them, next to four glasses. "Is that what Aaron calls it?" She leaned forward, her right forearm draped across her thigh. "This is more like an interview than an audition. If you're not a good fit, then we'll part ways, none the worse for wear."

"Let's hope this interview goes well then," Rick said. Seeing firsthand what lay behind those gates, he did not plan on giving it up so easily.

"Why are we here?" Michonne asked, distracting Rick from his darker thoughts. "Why not just speak to Rick?"

"Because Aaron said if I had any chance of making this happen, I would need to convince the both of you. Was he wrong?" Deanna asked, looking curiously between Rick and Michonne.

"No, he wasn't," Rick said. However complex their relationship was at the moment, they were a team first and foremost. He valued her ability to read people and situations, something that hadn't changed since he first met her five years ago. Her presence helped him remain level-headed and resist the darkness and fear that he'd been feeling lately.

"Good," Deanna said. She launched into the story of how she and her family had been directed to Alexandria by the army, who promised to follow them, but never made it. Their first task had been to construct walls around the self-sustaining community – her husband had been an architect before the end of the civilized world.

"And you were in politics," Michonne said confidently, interrupting Deanna's explanation of the solar-powered grid and water supply system.

Deanna smiled knowingly. "Yes. Lawyer, right?" she asked.

"Takes one to know one," Michonne said.

Deanna laughed, appearing genuinely amused. "You got me there. Though I haven't practiced law in over a decade."

"Neat parlor trick," Rick said. "What about me? What was I before this all started?"

Deanna looked Rick up and down; only for show, he suspected. "Law enforcement. Which is exactly why we need you – the both of you."

"You've decided to take us in, that quickly?" Rick asked. This all seemed a little too easy. He needed to know she had more than cheap tricks up her sleeve.

"I decided the second I walked into this room. I was just giving you two the chance to figure out what you wanted first. If that's Alexandria, then you can move into your new homes today." Deanna leaned forward, grabbing the pitcher of lemonade and pouring herself a glass. She sipped on the drink, waiting for their response.

Rick and Michonne looked at each other. Michonne's nod was so slight, he almost missed it. She wanted Alexandria; he recognized the need in her dusky brown eyes. We could start over here, he thought. We could be a family here.

He and Lori had always dreamed of living in a community like this. She would have wanted her children to grow up here; not out on the road, having to face a new threat every day. And Michonne wanted it too.

"We're in," Rick said to Deanna.

"Great," Deanna said, not surprised. "There is only one condition."

I knew this was coming. "And what is that?" Rick asked.

"I want you and Michonne to be our constables. To protect us from threats, both outside and inside of these walls. Can you agree to that?"

"Yes," Michonne responded abruptly.

Rick laughed. "Yeah, I think we can manage that."

Rick wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He stared at his reflection, his appearance rugged and unkempt despite the long shower. Beads of water spotted his hair and beard. He stroked his beard. He had always wanted to grow one, but Lori refused, not liking the feel of his scratchy hair against her delicate skin.

What would Michonne think? Does she prefer me with or without the beard? Either way, Rick wanted to shave it off. Life on the road, was over and he was ready for a fresh start; and shaving his beard would be the first step.

Rick used the small metal scissors he'd found to cut away most of his beard, the salt-and-pepper hair dropping in clumps into the sink. He was glad Michonne had used the bathroom before him, allowing him to take his time. She had spent over an hour in the shower, then another twenty minutes supposedly brushing her teeth. He had never seen her happier than when she found the toothbrushes and toothpaste in their "Welcome Home" packages.

Rick dispensed a large dollop of shaving cream into his palm and applied it liberally to his face. The soothing cream felt cool against his skin. Rick flipped up the blade of the straight razor, his hand shaking slightly. I've done this a thousand times, why does it feel like the first? Maybe because the last time he used a straight razor was before he'd gone into a coma.

Rick lifted his chin and took a deep breath before running the blade down his neck, grazing over his Adam's apple. I guess shaving is like riding a bicycle, he thought, proceeding to shave the rest of his neck before moving on to his face. In no time, his face was smooth and hair-free. He cleaned up the hair in the sink and finished dressing, pulling on a clean black t-shirt and fitted jeans. He remained barefoot.

Steam poured out of the bathroom as he swung open the door. The house was surprisingly quiet, considering there were three people and a baby living there. Deanna had offered three homes to share between his group. Sasha, Tyrese, Carol and Daryl were in one house. Abraham, Rosita, Glenn, Maggie and Bob lived in another. Father Gabriel chose to sleep on a cot in the chapel. Rick had asked Michonne to join him and Carl long before the others made their choices and she readily accepted; though he suspected that had been her intention all along.

The door to Carl's room was closed, so Rick ventured downstairs to join Michonne, whom he heard opening and closing cabinet doors. He suspected she was organizing, being the typical A-type. Living with her would definitely be a new experience for the both of them and he looked forward to discovering as much about her as he could.

Rick walked into the kitchen to find Michonne bent over, searching through one of the lower cabinets. The baggy gray sweatpants did nothing to conceal her incredibly firm behind. Keeping his hands to himself would be a true testament to his self-control.

"What are you looking for?" Rick asked, taking a seat on a stool at the kitchen island.

Michonne jumped at his statement. She stood and turned to face him, a large kitchen knife in her hand. "You should know better than to sneak up on a woman with a knife. I was looking for a cutting board, but apparently we don't have one."

"The lady in inventory, Jessie, said they can provide whatever we might need. You should pay her a visit tomorrow."

Michonne placed the knife on the kitchen counter and joined Rick at the island, taking the stool across from him. "Sounds like you and Jessie are good friends," she said, eyeing him with a hint of suspicion and humor in her inquisitive eyes.

"She's been helpful, I guess. She has a son around Carl's age and wants to introduce them."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"I'm not sure how thrilled Carl will be about it. It's been a while since he's been around anyone his own age. It may take a little time for him to adjust."

"Well," Michonne said, examining her cuticles. "She sounds…nice."

"Nice but naïve. They all are."

"Better reason for us to be here. We can teach them to better survive. Life won't be full of hot showers and sweet lemonade forever."

Rick chuckled. "Glad you're up for the challenge," he teased. "I give you two weeks before you're ready to pull your hair out."

"I'm not one to back down from a challenge." Her eyes flitted briefly to his lips. She cleared her throat. "It's been five years since I've seen your face like that. Looks good."

Rick stroked his chin with his hand to avoid blushing. "Thanks. Wish I could say the same for my hair."

"I can take care of that." Michonne opened a drawer in the island, removing a pair of scissors. "I paid my way through law school cutting hair. I think I can manage those unruly curls."

Rick threw her a skeptical look. "Many have tried…and failed. Even let Lori wasn't allowed to cut my hair."

Michonne smirked. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not your wife then."

Rick smiled. After their memorable night together, he had often imagined what his life would have been like if he'd met Michonne before Lori. "Alright, Vidal Sassoon. Let's see what you got."

Michonne stood behind Rick, snipping away at his curls, a small towel wrapped around his neck and shoulders. Soft rock played from the docking station on the counter. Rick closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. She smelled of vanilla and peaches, causing his mouth to water. Rick squirmed in his seat.

"How's it going up there?" Rick asked, doing his best to ignore his mounting desire.

"You weren't kidding about these curls. They've got a mind of their own."

"If you're not up to the challenge, I can always ask Jessie. Supposedly, she's got experience cutting hair too." Michonne tugged on a clump of his hair. "Ouch," he said, smiling.

"Sorry," she said, not the least bit remorseful.

Rick enjoyed getting a rise out of her. Serves her right for being so delectable, he thought. His hands itched with the thought of running them along her lithe body. Behave.

"Alright, done," Michonne said triumphantly. She held a small mirror in front of his face.

Rick ran his fingers through his curls, impressed with her work. "Not bad, for your first time," he joked. His eyes moved to Michonne, whose reflection he could see in the mirror as well. Her eyes were watery, as though she was on the verge of tears. Rick stood and turned to face her, afraid he had wounded her pride. "I was just kidding. It looks great," he said quickly to reassure her.

Michonne smiled, though traces of sadness remained on her face. "I know it looks good. It's just...you reminded me of someone. Someone I've lost –" Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, one cascading down her cheek.

Rick took her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Michonne," he said, tightening his embrace. Michonne shook with quiet sobs, his heart almost breaking. The fact that this woman – who was always so stoic and strong in front of everyone else – felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him, spoke volumes. She craved the same closeness with him that he did with her; he knew that now.

Michonne's sobs died down and Rick slowly pulled away. He reached to cradle her face in his hands, swiping away her tears with his thumbs. "Only cry in front of me from now on. I don't know think I can handle someone else being there to comfort you who isn't me. Promise me," he said more seriously than he had intended.

"I promise," she said between sniffles.

Rick moved in to capture her lips with his own. Michonne tasted of salted caramel, mixed in with a flavor that was all Michonne. He deepened the kiss, coaxing her mouth open with his moist tongue.

Michonne moaned, wrapping her arms around his waist and gripping handfuls of his t-shirt. His hands trailed from her face, down her neck, and around to her back. He caressed the muscles in her back and continued downward, resting on her firm behind. He squeezed, desire shooting through his body.

"I missed you," he growled into her mouth.

"I missed you too," she said, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth.

"I can't lose you again." A surge of fear slightly dampened his growing desire.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said. "I promise."

Rick sighed and lifted her onto the kitchen island, settling himself between her legs. "You better not." He devoured her mouth, effectively ending all verbal communication for the rest of the night.

A/N: I know you all have been waiting for this moment for a while! Hope you enjoyed it and thanks for holding on!